Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Botswana and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Eric Dolphy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marshall Jefferson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Spoonie Gee,
Dark Day,
Man Parrish,
The Gun Club,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Kinks,
Reuben Wilson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Leonard Cohen,
R.M.O.,
Stockholm Monsters,
Barry Ungar,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Normal,
Sun City Girls,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Lalo Schifrin,
Rapeman,
Marcia Griffiths,
Rekid,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Ituana,
Radiopuhelimet,
Model 500,
Amon Düül II,
Maurizio,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Chrome,
Black Flag,
Prince Buster,
The Searchers,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Stetsasonic,
Patti Smith,
This Heat,
Dawn Penn,
Sound Behaviour,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Seeds,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Foxx,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Kerrie Biddell,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Stereo Dub,
Whodini,
Absolute Body Control,
Scrapy,
Bluetip,
Hoover,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Henry Cow,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Easy Going,
Hot Snakes,
Blake Baxter,
The Motions,
Piero Umiliani,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bobby Byrd,
Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon, Surgeon.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.